


Better Than A Kick In The Ass

by Sparseparsley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Playful Sex, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:09:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparseparsley/pseuds/Sparseparsley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler can't resist messing with Dylan's afternoon nap, in all sorts of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than A Kick In The Ass

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, my fingers slipped. Thanks to Ro and Andrea for being damn dirty enablers of the best kind, and Dizzzylu for being an always willing beta, which is a gift.

So Dylan sleeps really hard, sometimes.  _ Really  _ hard. So hard that it scares Tyler because sometimes Dylan just won’t wake up no matter what he does. To a point, at least. Slapping worked once, but _‘sorry, I was just seeing if you were alright_ ’ seemed like a pale sort of apology in the face of, well, Dylan’s face. His wounded pout is a thing of terrifying wonder.  
  
Other times Tyler really likes it. Especially after they got their heads out of their asses and got together. Okay, after  _ Tyler  _ got his head out of his ass. But really, they met when Dylan still had the word ‘teen’ in his age, so can you blame Tyler for playing it safe? Though he does have it on authority (thank you Holland) that his version of playing it safe was pretty weak and probably shouldn’t have involved as much touching as it did.  
  
It’s not like he knew what he was doing, he’d never had a crush like that on someone he works with before. Shit, he hasn’t had anything he’d even categorize as a crush since he was about 16 and thought he wanted to be Viggo Mortensen’s secret boyfriend.  
  
But Dylan, man. He’s a walking bundle of limbs and stupid faces and the weirdest noises Tyler has ever heard come out of a human being before and it  _ works _ . Throw in the talent and the arms and the funny and the  _ mouth  _ and Tyler was screwed. But he still held back, because despite how much they played to it, he had no real idea if Dylan would be interested in him specifically or even interested in a ‘him’ in general.  
  
In the end, it was Dylan who came to Tyler. Took him out for lunch one day (or what he called a ‘buddy-date’, liar) and asked him if he knew what the definition of the phrase _‘leading someone on_ ’ was. The phrase _‘piss or get off the pot_ ’ may have also come up, because  _ Dylan _ , but Tyler tries very hard to not remember it.  
  
One short if a little confusing talk and one longer and not at all confusing make out session later, they were a thing. A they.  
  
Now Tyler gets to be the person who knows how Dylan sleeps and vice versa. And as mentioned, he really likes it most of the time.  
  
Like the times when Dylan falls asleep on set, propped up in some awkward position with his face slack and snoring. It’s a skill that both translates really well into Stiles’ character and makes it nearly impossible for Tyler to keep from smiling. Or the times when Dylan falls asleep on him, mouth just as slack but hot breath puffing against Tyler’s neck or hair tickling at his throat. He used to resist it, but now it’s like instinct to curl his arm around Dylan’s waist and settle all that lax warmth tight against his side.   
  
Sometimes he rearranges Dylan just because he can. The guy sleeps like the dead and it’s so easy to slip in beside him, wrap up in him like he’s a human blanket, their limbs a contrasting twine of tan and pale that never fails to put a flush of heat right under Tyler’s skin.   
  
Or, on occasion, Tyler moves him into incriminating positions just to take embarrassing photos of him. The ‘Dylan Is A Little Teapot’ series was a big hit on set.   
  
Actually, ‘on occasion’ is probably a gross understatement. Tyler has a weakness for fucking with Dylan.  
  
Also, fucking Dylan.  
  
Also, Dylan sleeping.  
  
Which, altogether, probably explains why he’s in Dylan’s trailer right now, on his knees above Dylan’s face, smacking his dick against Dylan’s nose. Because he is the mature, respectful adult in this relationship. The mature, respectful,  _ trying not to giggle _ , adult.  
  
Well, when you take naps around a group of people who are being paid to act like a bunch of teenagers, you take your chances.  
  
Frankly though, the sight of his cock and Dylan’s mouth in close proximity is just the best no matter what reason it’s there for. If he could figure out a way to have it always without awkward contortions and public indecency, he’d be there. Dylan’s mouth is distracting enough that Tyler gets lost rubbing the head of his cock against that pouting bottom lip, so much more lush and soft in sleep, before he remembers that he’s supposed to be messing around and not being a completely irredeemable pervert.  
  
He gives it another try, letting his rapidly hardening length sort of bounce against Dylan’s cheek, but the contact just turns him another notch toward irredeemable and then he’s rubbing the head of his cock against Dylan’s mouth again, wondering if he looks as dazed as he feels.  
  
A bead of liquid is just easing from the tip and smearing over the bow of Dylan’s top lip when he shows the first signs of life, twitching and licking the thick drop away with a mutter.  
  
Tyler goes still, lifting himself away from Dylan’s face with an all mighty show of willpower, and waits.  
  
Dylan sleeps hard but he wakes up fast, so it’s not long at all before his eyes are squinting open, bleary and half unconscious. “...whussafuck... ” A confused frown curves his mouth, lips barely forming the sounds of words his mind hasn’t quite caught up with yet. “ ...issat a cock?” His voice is sleep heavy and rough, close enough that Tyler can feel the vibrations of it against sensitive skin, but as sexy as that is, it doesn’t stop him from letting his dick go so it can spring back down across Dylan’s face with an audible smack.  
  
Mature, respectful adult.  
  
Dylan’s eyes fly open in shock as he comes totally awake and dodges to one side, leaving Tyler’s cock to skid against his ear on the recoil. “Aug! Dude! What the fuck!” His arms flail, one trapped between the blanket and Tyler’s knee and the other flying up to wave at his face in a panic, slapping Tyler’s cock against his cheek again in his haste.  
  
“Ow, hey!” Tyler rears back on his knees, laughing even as he’s pulling his more sensitive areas out of attack range.  
  
“Don’t- don’t-” Blinking rapidly, Dylan rubs at his eyes before batting at Tyler’s cock again with a less than gentle backhand. “Don’t ‘hey’ me! Cock having slappers- don’t- face smacking cocks- okay, just- don’t ‘hey’ me, buddy, what the fuck!”  
  
Still laughing, Tyler helps Dylan free his other arm at great risk to his own personal safety. “I’m sorry? You just... you’re cute when you sleep.”  
  
Shifting up via a tight grip on Tyler’s thighs, Dylan licks at his sleep-sticky mouth. The annoyed squint he gives Tyler probably has something to do with the salty taste still clinging there. “So you see someone napping happily and you think ‘Aww how sweet, I better cockslap them’?”  
  
“Not ‘someone’.” Tyler hopes his smile is as charming from that angle as Dylan usually finds it at face level. “Just you.”  
  
Dylan rolls his eyes, voice flat. “Wow, I feel so blessed, I’d like to thank the Academy. So are you gonna let me up now, or... ?”  
  
It’s a wise man who does not let an opportunity pass him by.  
  
“I don’t know, I could go for some ‘or’.”  
  
Dylan snorts, raising an eyebrow at both him and his cock. “Seriously?”  
  
Tyler shrugs, attempting to convey a whole load of things at once with just his one face. Everything from hopefulness to helplessness to ‘hey, if our positions were reversed what would  _you_ want?’ and ‘why be  _ not  _ having sex when we could be having sex?’ And some begging, there’s definitely some begging in there, because no face could avoid begging with the possibility of Dylan’s mouth in the near future.  
  
Dylan, thankfully, is good at faces. “Oh my  _ God _ , fine. Yes.” He makes a beckoning gesture with his fingers, wiggling his shoulders into a better position. “Dick me, you big crybaby.”  
  
As Tyler is a wise man and this is the definition of an opportunity, he wastes no time in shoving his sweat pants (hey, comfort is important when not filming) down further and knee-walking up close and personal.  
  
His cock is fully hard now, impatient in his fingers as he lines it up, but Dylan stops him short with two fingers against the head of it, blocking him. “I think we’re forgetting something?”  
  
Forgetting something, forgetting what? Tyler can’t think with the pressure of Dylan’s fingers on him, firm when he presses forward.  
  
Dylan shakes his head, fingers pulling away and swooping through the air like a conductor as he sing-songs out. “‘ _Thank you very much, Dylan_ ’.”  
  
Tyler laughs, he can’t help it (like, can’t ever help it), and kisses the tips of his own fingers before laying them on Dylan’s cheek. “Thank you  _ very  _ much, Dylan.”  
  
Despite being the instigator of their relationship, Dylan still isn’t entirely comfortable accepting the affection Tyler sometimes likes to show like this. He twitches away with a flush and an embarrassed smile. “Dork, I was kidding. Give it here.”  
  
Tyler knows the enthusiasm is partly deflection, but he still can’t help a strangled moan as Dylan takes him by the base of his cock and wraps his mouth around the head with a fast slurp.  
  
“Fuck!”  
  
The inside of Dylan’s mouth is a hot shock, his teeth back and lips sealed against the sensitive skin under the flare of Tyler’s cock, tongue rolling as he works up moisture around it. Jesus  _ Christ _ , it feels amazing, Tyler always thinks he remembers how amazing, but he doesn’t, not until he can feel it again. “Dylan!”  
  
His hips jerk forward once, twice, helplessly seeking more of that sliding heat as his cock stutters over Dylan’s lips. Then it’s all gone as Dylan pulls away with a grunt. Tyler tries not to get too embarrassed about the frustrated groan already rising in his throat.  
  
“Just a sec, just a sec.” God, just the breathlessness in his voice is enough to have the muscles in Tyler’s thighs flexing in want. He lays his hands against the wall above Dylan’s bed and tries to control himself, wishing not for the first time that they had headboards in these trailers, something to get ahold of.  
  
“Sorry.” He is, really. As much as he loves the feeling of thrusting between those plush lips, he doesn’t ever want to hurt Dylan, push him like that without knowing he’s up for it.  
  
“No, it’s- I just need to-” Dylan angles his cock up, licking it from root to tip.  
  
 _Oh_.  Tyler sighs with pleasure, letting his head hang forward as Dylan covers his cock with long, wet licks. He’s more than thorough, making sure Tyler is slick from the leaking head of his cock down to the dark, thick curls at the base of it, and by the time Dylan is finished, Tyler is shuddering.  
  
“Okay, sorry, just wasn’t wet enough yet, you can go for it now.”  
  
Go for... Tyler’s eyes snap open as he realizes what that means and what Dylan had been doing. Not backing off, just getting him ready. Wetting him down so that he’ll be able to push into Dylan’s mouth with ease.  
  
He reminds himself that a victory air punch during sex would be rude. And rude is the last thing he wants to be when Dylan is sucking him down again so slick and easy.   
  
As much as Dylan likes to imply that he’s doing Tyler a favour here, the hungry little moan that vibrates right through to Tyler’s spine says he’s not. It says he’s just as glad to be taking it as Tyler is giving it.  
  
He tries to take it easy at first, keeping to shallow thrusts over Dylan’s lips, the dragging sensation fluttering through his stomach. He tries, until Dylan  _ opens  _ around him. Tyler once joked that Stiles should be the mystery-lizard on the show, since Dylan could open his jaw so wide you’d swear he was dislocating something, but  _ god _ . The way his mouth spreads wide, a perfect darkness to push into, it makes Tyler want to  _ worship _ .  
  
“ Fuck , Dylan, I can’t... “  
  
He can’t hold back, especially when Dylan starts moving, stretching his neck until he’s happily fucking his own mouth along Tyler’s cock.  
  
Tyler rests his palm against Dylan’s head, peachfuzz hair tickling, and stills him before taking over. He’s slow, hips rolling as he slides into the long stretch of Dylan’s mouth and back out, the flare of his cock just catching against Dylan’s bottom lip before he strokes in again.   
  
Dylan just takes it, eyes fluttering shut every time Tyler’s cock pushes at the back of his mouth. Tyler glides in deeper each time, grunting roughly as he feels the convulsive swallowing pull at the head of his cock. His dick has always been... he’s never really sure how to put it, ‘generous’ with precome? And he can feel it slicking up Dylan’s mouth even now, knows just how much Dylan is swallowing with those happy gulps.  
  
It’s still too much to get it all down though, and Tyler bites at his lip, moaning as the mess of spit and precome starts to collect and spill over the corners of Dylan’s mouth, sliding down his smooth chin. “Jesus Christ, Dylan, you-  _ fuck _ .”   
  
He grinds in faster, then, deeper, wanting to see it all spill out over Dylan’s face. Watch it drip down and pool in the hollow of his throat. Watch him  _ shine  _ with it. Fuck, Tyler’s never wanted to make a complete mess of someone like he wants to make Dylan, who knows why, he’s just lucky that Dylan seems to want to  be  a mess just as bad.  
  
He’s so hard he aches now, fucking Dylan’s mouth almost to the root of himself, balls high and tight and  ready . “Fuck, Dylan,  _ fuck _ !” It’s too fast, too wet, his cock pops loose on one over enthusiastic roll of his hips, sliding along the mess on Dylan’s cheek. He groans in frustration, desperate to be back where he was.  
  
Dylan tries to say something as he gasps for air, possibly call Tyler a whiner again,  but he’s just too much of a mess; it comes out a garbled noise along with another wave of spit and slickness that drools down his chin. He scrapes his face semi-clean with the back of his hand and chases after Tyler’s cock, pushing his mouth up onto it with an eager motion.  
  
“God!” It’s like everything is brand new again and Tyler shoves in mindlessly, only realizing just how deep he’s gone when he feels his cock press firm against the back of Dylan’s throat. Dylan coughs and swallows, choking around the head of Tyler’s cock and something so rough should _not_ feel this fucking good .   
  
Tyler pulls back and freezes, sure he took it too far, but even as his brain is trying to remember which sounds form the word ‘sorry’, Dylan is grabbing him by the hips and urging him on.  
  
You’re not supposed to say ‘I love you’ for the first time during sex, right? Because  _ fuck _ .  
  
Tyler goes with it. Goes a little wild with it, fucking into Dylan’s mouth with a reckless rhythm. The palm he still has on Dylan’s head goes tight, holding him steady while Tyler ruts into him, wet and messy and  _ rough _ .  
  
“Dylan, Dylan, oh god, I- ”  
  
He’s incoherent with it, just wants to get there, to have Dylan take him there, panting and whining brokenly with every breath. In the end it’s the noises that send him over the edge and curling down around Dylan’s head in shaking release. The slurps and smacks and obscene wet gurgles in the back of Dylan’s throat. The high, needy whimpers and satisfied groans that curl around his cock. They push him over with a wordless shout and have him coming against Dylan’s tongue and down his throat in hard, body clenching spurts.  
  
The involuntary jerking of his hips pulls him loose from Dylan’s mouth too soon, sending the last lines of come dripping over red flushed lips and wide stretched jaw. The sight of it is enough send another shake through Tyler’s body, leaving him a gasping wreck, lost in it.  
  
It’s Dylan’s voice that brings him back, croaking and used but still, even now, with that undercurrent of humor. “I know, right?”  
  
Tyler opens his eyes, no idea when he closed them, and finds himself slumped above Dylan, forehead pressed to the wall. His arms are barely holding, pressed into the pillow on either side of Dylan’s head. And his cock is still _right there_ ,  sliding against the spatters of come on Dylan’s jaw. Tyler has to pull away from the over-sharp sensation.  
  
“I really don’t think you do.” He wonders if his voice sounds as blown away as he feels, the sight of Dylan wiping away the sticky mess on his face with a thumb, only to suck it clean again, not helping at all. He even looks smug about it, smirking around his knuckle as he pulls it free. Tyler sighs, unable to express how hard his life is now with Dylan in it and doing these things, and stretches out bonelessly along his side.  
  
“No, I am one hundred percent aware that that was awesome.”   
  
Tyler makes a vaguely agreeable noise and finds the energy to shift up close enough to kiss Dylan on the still wet corner of his mouth. “Totally awesome.”  
  
He’s content to bask in the selfish glow of an epic blowjob, but Dylan has more energy reserves than Canada and it’s not long before he’s shoving Tyler onto his back with a grin.  
  
“Okay! You do me now.” He’s climbing on top and pretty much flinging his shirt off before Tyler’s even laid flat. “I have the hard on of the  _ damned  _ and I need to inflict it on you.”  
  
Tyler narrows his eyes. “You’re not gonna hit me with it, are you?”  
  
“No.” Dylan grins down at him in that way that makes Tyler want to say the most embarrassing things. “I’m saving that for when you least expect it. You’ll just be going along one day, minding your own business and then... boom.”   
  
He strikes like a snake, flicking his fingertip hard against the center of Tyler’s forehead.  
  
“Cocksmacked.”


End file.
